As the skin leaves your body;the skeleton still remains,
The soul survives alone somehow;while memory detains,
Even though the skeleton walks; for all intent he’s dead,
Every beat of his heart;relives the memories in his head.
The heart and soul in memory collide;a soul now in pieces,
As each day the moments pass;and his bone collection increases,
With every moment that passes by;the blood no longer flows,
And with the bones that he collects;his anguish only grows.
Daily the bones pile up;a mountain dedicated to the past,
The one thing that he searches for; seems beyond his grasp,
Memories keep the skeleton moving;the past he can’t let go,
Though the skeleton appears complete;a woman is all he knows.
He wears a smile on his soul less face;as he searches far and wide,
For the piece he needs to hold;betrays the heart inside,
Though his collection grows and grows;a woman is what he needs,
While his blood no longer flows;but still the skeleton bleeds.
His bones are no longer white;they’re stained a crimson red,
Blood seeps from the memories;of this woman in heart and head,
The woman that he searches for;has already been found,
Yet until she returns;clattering bones his only sound.